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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28082367">The Whole of It</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/whetherwoman/pseuds/whetherwoman'>whetherwoman</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Half of It (2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, If you never do the bold stroke you'll never know if you could have had a truly great painting, Mentioned Ellie Chu/Original Female Character(s), Paul Munsky and Ellie Chu are himbo-lesbian solidarity goals, Ten Years Later, kissing in the drizzle, sometimes where you end up at 27 is not what you thought would happen at 17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:00:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,115</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28082367</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/whetherwoman/pseuds/whetherwoman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"How do we forgive ourselves for all the things we did not become?"</p><p>- Doc Luben</p><p>Ellie grows up and learns about second chances.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ellie Chu &amp; Paul Munsky, Ellie Chu/Aster Flores</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>168</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Yuletide 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Whole of It</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/redbrickrose/gifts">redbrickrose</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It made a great story, was the thing.</p><p>She'd always start the same way. "You have to understand, I grew up in a small town," she'd say, and everyone would groan knowingly, especially the ones who'd grown up in cities. She'd tell them about the jock who couldn't write his own love letters, and the deacon's beautiful daughter, and texting them both while looking in through the diner window. She'd dwell in loving detail on the hot spring, on how the steam fogged up her glasses, on how fast she'd whirled around as Aster lifted her shirt up, because inevitably someone would say, "Really? You didn't look at all?" And Ellie would say, "No!" indignant and self-righteous for one second, two, three, and then she'd let her mouth curl and and say, "Well..." and her audience would erupt in groans and laughter.</p><p>It got her a lot of pussy, honestly.</p><p>She'd tell them about Trig's proposal in church, and promise that his name really was Trigger, and gloss over her own confession and the ensuing fracas. "And then, a few days later," she'd say, "she told me she was applying to art school, and I kissed her." Everyone would coo happily, and Ellie would wait until someone asked, "What happened next?"</p><p>"I went to college," Ellie would say with a shrug. "And last I heard, she married the football star." </p><p>Her audience would groan, and usually someone would say, "Straight girls, right?" Someone would start on their own first kiss story, and someone else would usually offer to buy Ellie a drink, and usually Ellie would end up making out with them in the hallway, or the back porch, or on a couch in the corner, and it all worked out pretty well.</p><p>She didn't tell people about painting a girl reaching for the stars on a blank wall, or the way Aster's eyes had sparkled as she'd said, "In a couple of years, I am gonna be so sure," or how, in that moment, Ellie had believed her. She didn't tell them about the look on Paul Munsky's face when he'd said, "You're going to hell," or when he'd said, "I never want to be the guy who stops loving someone for loving the way that they love." She didn't tell them how Aster hadn't responded to any of her messages over the fall, or the pit in her stomach that had opened up when Paul had texted her, <em>goig to aster and Trigs wedding tmorrow 🏓🎷🥄 what tie should I wear</em>, or the way she still sometimes wanted to tell Aster whenever she read a good book.</p><p>Without all of that, it made a pretty great story.</p>
<hr/><p>The first time she went home to Squahamish, over winter break, she played Drinkers of Catan with Claire and Matt and Alexis. Then she made out with Claire in the alley behind Munsky's Sausages until Tommy Munsky threatened to throw a bucket of water over them and Claire started yelling about hate crimes and then the rest of the Munskys came out and started yelling, and then Ellie's <em>dad</em> started yelling out the window too, and then Ellie threw up on Claire's shoes. Ellie spent the next five days including Christmas hiding from literally everyone except Paul, who unfortunately still came over to cook and watch movies with her dad even when Ellie refused to answer his texts, which frankly was cruel and maybe a war crime and definitely grounds for ending a friendship. </p><p>("I don't think it's a war crime," Paul said.</p><p>"It's definitely a war crime," Ellie said, only a little muffled by the blanket over her head. "I don't want to be seen. Go away."</p><p>"Okay," Paul agreed. "I made a new kind of sausage, though. It's a pizza sausage."</p><p>"That's just pepperoni," Ellie grumbled, but she took the plate Paul passed under the blanket.)</p><p>She got on the train back to Iowa without seeing Aster, but that wasn't a surprise.</p><p>She spent spring break on a road trip with Brianna, and even managed not to break up with her until the second to last day. In the summer, she got an internship at a literary journal in Port Townsend. It was five hours from Squahamish by car, but she didn't have a car, and she visited exactly twice all summer, once to drop all her belongings from college off, and once to pick them up again on her way back.</p><p>She went home again for winter break, and maybe filled three pages of a notebook with things she could possibly say to Aster if she happened, accidentally, to run into her. Two more pages had all the things she definitely wouldn't say.</p><p>She didn't run into Aster, though, and Paul hadn't mentioned her since he'd gone to her wedding over a year before. Ellie didn't ask then, or the next summer, or the summer after that. Paul drove her dad out to Grinnell for her graduation and drove all three of them back, the well-loved truck he'd proudly saved up for rattling ominously the whole way, overfilled with everything from Grinnell that Ellie had managed to take or find or save. </p><p>He drove her down to Portland too, a month later, to the boring but well-paying job with Ellie's professor's friend's daughter and a studio apartment half a block from the train tracks.</p><p>"Honestly, I don't think I'd be comfortable without it," Ellie told him, the third time they had to stop talking as the whistle blast drowned out their conversation. "Wouldn't be able to sleep, probably."</p><p>"Yeah," Paul said, nodding. "Definitely. Hey." He reached out and squeezed Ellie's shoulder awkwardly. "You'll, um. I mean." He stalled out.</p><p>"Hey," Ellie said, and stood on her tiptoes to haul him into a hug. "I'll see you soon, okay? As soon as I get some time off saved up, I'll come home and visit."</p><p>"Totally," Paul said, but the furrow in his forehead didn't budge. "But you'll, um. You'll be happy here?"</p><p>"I'm gonna be so happy," Ellie promised, slugging him in the arm. He didn't even pretend it hurt, the jerk. "I'm going to start a 401k, and make lots of friends, and write the great Chinese-American novel, okay? I'm going to be great."</p><p>"Okay," Paul said, and wrapped her up in one of the hugs Ellie still pretended to hate, just for appearances sake. "You'll be great."</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>Five years later...</em>
</p><p>"Ellie! Ellie!" Paul grabbed her by the shoulders and leaned down to look her in the eyes earnestly. "Ellie? I'm so glad you're here."</p><p>"I'm glad I'm here too, Paul," Ellie lied, raising her voice over the cheerful drunk chatter of the bar and patting him on the shoulder. "I'm glad to be here for you," she amended, which was at least true in an existential sense; there was nothing about this bar in particular or Squahamish in general that made her particularly glad. But it was good to see Paul, beaming and red-faced and really ridiculously drunk. </p><p>"You're here!" Paul nodded vehemently. "For my. My <em>wedding</em>."</p><p>"Yes, I am," Ellie agreed. "Hey, maybe we should get you some fresh air, huh? Some water?"</p><p>"Yeah!" Paul's face brightened. "Yeah, that's what Katie said. She said, stop drinking at. At. What time is it? At midnight, because I'm sssspinder. Cinder. Ella." He giggled, and Ellie smiled back in spite of herself.</p><p>"Guess you're a pumpkin, buddy." It was significantly past midnight. "Come on, let's get you a water."</p><p>"Okay, but. Ellie. Ellie!" Paul squeezed her shoulder again. "That's what. I wanted to tell you."</p><p>"You're glad I'm here, I know." Ellie tried to turn towards the bar, but was pulled back yet again.</p><p>"No! No, that I'm Cinderel—" He paused to burp. "Cinderella! And Katie's my <em>prince</em>."</p><p>"She sure is," Ellie agreed. She'd only met Katie once, the last time she was in Squahamish almost a year ago, but Paul's texts had been entirely Katie this and Katie that for months before. Ellie had been fully prepared to dislike her, except she turned out to be disgustingly impossible to hate, and entirely perfect for Paul. Katie was short, and blonde, and bubbly, and looked at Paul Munsky like he was the most perfect man to walk the earth. She bossed him around almost as much as his mother did, but she was also the one who finally got Paul's taco sausage on the Munsky restaurant menu. And she made Paul so, so happy. Ellie didn't believe in true love, but if she did, Paul and Katie would be it.</p><p>"She's my prince, Ellie," Paul said again. "In bed."</p><p>"Oh no," Ellie said and immediately reversed course from the bar to the darkest corner she could find. "No, do not tell me what you do in bed with Katie, and definitely do not tell your entire bachelor party and half the rest of the town what you do in bed with Katie."</p><p>"But she has a—you know." Paul clearly thought he was lowering his voice, but trailed after Ellie happily enough. </p><p>"No, I don't—actually, you know what, let's say I do." Ellie shoved Paul into a booth, not unkindly. "Let's say I know exactly what you're trying to tell me, so you don't have to tell me anything else, okay?"</p><p>"A strap-on," Paul said, and Ellie smacked her hands over her ears far, far too late. "I just—Ellie! Ellie, listen to me." He pulled at her wrist. "Ellie, she just. She just makes everything so good. She's so good to me."</p><p>"No," Ellie moaned. "No, no, no, I never should have come here, nothing good ever happens when I come back to Squahamish, I need—I need more whiskey, oh my god."</p><p>"I just want you to have that, Ellie." Paul's puppy dog eyes should have looked ridiculous on an adult man. And yet.</p><p>Ellie sighed. "I know, buddy," she said. She resisted the urge to pat his head.</p><p>"You deserve that," Paul insisted. "Someone who's good to you. With a strap-on."</p><p>"Okay," Ellie said, and stood up. "I am going to the bar, and I am going to get lots of water for you, and <em>lots</em> of whiskey for me, and neither of us are going to remember anything about this conversation tomorrow. Stay!" she said, as Paul started to get up. </p><p>"A good woman!" Paul said, but subsided when Ellie glared at him.</p><p>She pushed her way through the cheerful drunken mass of Paul's brothers and cousins and friends, all of them five million feet tall and not in complete control of their limbs. She downed her first shot of whiskey right at the bar, before taking her second and a bottle of the water back towards Paul. </p><p>She'd had plenty of good women, with and without strap-ons. Sam, and Lillian, and Chantal, and Marisol, and Brianna, and Claire—smart and gorgeous and creative and just mean enough to keep things interesting. But love wasn't about getting what you deserved. Ellie had once told half the town of Squahamish that love was about trying, and reaching, and failing. Well, she'd got the failing down, at least.</p>
<hr/><p>Ellie was standing at the buffet table, trying to decide whether to get a third taco sausage or whether two was plenty, when she heard someone say, "Hey."</p><p>She turned around, and almost dropped her plate. "Aster," she said, and immediately wanted to kick herself for sounding so surprised. Of course Aster was at Paul's wedding, why wouldn't she be? Just because Ellie hadn't happened to run into her the last time she was in Squahamish, or the time before, or—but of course she was at Paul's wedding. "It's, uh. Good to see you?"</p><p>It came out far more uncertain than Ellie meant. It was good to see Aster. It was really, really good to see Aster. She was wearing something black, and long, and very close-fitting, and Ellie had a sudden visceral memory of kneeling in the school hallway while Aster picked up her books; of whirling around with steam clouding up her glasses as the hem of Aster's shirt lifted above her ribs; of dropping her bike in the middle of the street and taking one perfect kiss from those perfect lips because Aster Flores was too painfully, gloriously, beautiful.</p><p>So, all things considered, a slightly awkward greeting was probably the best case scenario. </p><p>"You too," Aster said. "It's been a while." </p><p>"Yeah," Ellie said, and picked up a taco because the inevitable stomachache was suddenly preferable to not having anything to do with her hands. "How are, how have you been?"</p><p>"Over the last ten years?" Aster said, a wry twist to her mouth, and Ellie had to hold in a laugh. Had she forgotten that Aster was funny? "Some good, some bad."</p><p>"Yeah," Ellie said, again. She could have kicked herself. Aster was going to walk away, think the conversation was over, that Ellie had nothing to say when she actually—</p><p>"What about you?" Aster said. "Are you, um. Are you here with anyone?"</p><p>"Yes," Ellie said, and immediately wanted to kick herself for the way Aster's face fell. Not like—why would it matter to Aster? She was married, why would she care whether Ellie brought a plus one? "My dad. I'm here with my dad. I'm not, um. I'm single." Fuck, she hadn't been this awkward around a pretty girl in—well. Ten years, actually. "I'm living in Portland now?"</p><p>"Oh wow, really?" Aster said, her lips curving, pleased. "Me too, actually, that's so funny. How long have you been there?"</p><p>"You have?" Ellie said, her mouth still not entirely connected to her brain. It just seemed so implausible, somehow, imagining Aster walking through downtown Portland instead of downtown Squahamish, as if Aster didn't exist outside Squahamish. Or perhaps the opposite, as if Ellie's life in Portland was somehow an entirely different universe, as if no one but Ellie existed in both. "Um. Five years, I think? Six, now."</p><p>"Wow," Aster said again. "I can't believe we never ran into each other."</p><p>"Unless you frequent the Fred Meyer on Lombard after 11pm," Ellie heard herself say, "it's not actually that surprising." Fuck. If she couldn't pretend to be cool, at least she could have pretended her life was a little more interesting than work, grocery store, her studio apartment. She waited for Aster to frown, to ask about her job, her writing, what she was <em>doing</em> with her life—</p><p>"We definitely wouldn't have run into each other," Aster said, and Ellie flinched. "I'm a strictly Broadway Fred Meyer after 11pm kind of girl."</p><p>"Truly an impassible divide," Ellie said, something like relief bubbling up in her throat. "As long as it's not Safeway, though, I think I can handle it."</p><p>"Good," Aster said, and something changed about the way she held herself and suddenly Ellie couldn't swallow. Fuck, when had Aster learned to turn it on like that? Aster at seventeen, quiet and unsure of herself, had made Ellie lose her mind enough to do some of the most ridiculous things she'd done in her life. Aster at twenty-seven might actually kill her. "Do you want to..." She gestured at the patio door on the other side of the buffet table. "Get some air?"</p><p>Ellie nodded, and carefully set her her plate down—somewhere, it didn't matter, on someone's table—and followed Aster out. Aster's dress tied at the neck and dipped very, very far down her back. Ellie wanted to trace the curve of fabric along her side, run her fingers down until—</p><p>The cool night air hit her like a well-deserved slap in the face. Aster didn't seem to mind the temperature, though her arms and back were bare. Ellie at least had a jacket, although her blouse was silk and did absolutely nothing against the chill and damp of September in Squahamish.</p><p>Aster leaned on the railing, seemingly fine with not making conversation. Ellie leaned next to her, trying not to look at her too obviously. Her dress melded into the shadows, her face catching slivers of light from inside, as if she would become one with the night sky if she stayed there long enough.</p><p>The noise from inside shifted, a slow song coming on.</p><p>"Hey," Ellie said, because if there was anything she'd learned in the last ten years, it was that the world never ended when you were brave. Aster turned to look at her. "Want to dance?"</p><p>The corner of Aster's mouth turned up. Instead of answering, she stepped forward, her hands smoothing over Ellie's shoulders, finding the sweet spot at the nape of her neck. Ellie let her hands curve over Aster's hips, pulling her close enough to feel the heat between their bodies. Distantly, Ellie was grateful she'd worn hoots with a heel; most of her brain was focused on how her eyes were even with Aster's, and her mouth too. Aster's dress was silky under her fingers, Aster moving easily under the lightest pressure of fingers to the slow beat of the song. When Ellie pulled her even closer, she came, until her cheek was next to Ellie's cheek, her breath teasing Ellie's ear, her body warm against Ellie's. </p><p><em>Just the thought of you, turns my whole world misty blue</em>, wailed the music inside.</p><p>"What about Trig?" Ellie said, and regretted it immediately as Aster pulled away.</p><p>Aster mostly looked confused, though, as if Ellie had said something weird. "Trig?"</p><p>"Yeah, your—didn't you marry him?"</p><p>Aster blinked, then barked out a sudden laugh. She didn't sound particularly amused. "I did, yes, actually. And then divorced him, too. This is the first time I've been in Squahamish in years, and I had to sneak in the back so my dad wouldn't see me."</p><p>"I'm sorry," Ellie blurted, but Aster shrugged, her mouth a thin line. "I thought, um. I thought you were avoiding me."</p><p>"Don't flatter yourself, Chu," Aster said, but her shoulders were loosening, her hands softening on Ellie's shoulders. "I've just been avoiding the lecture about how I'm going to hell."</p><p>"Most people can't tell the difference," Ellie said seriously, and gloried in Aster's soft chuckle. </p><p>The song ended, and Ellie made herself let go of Aster. "Well," she said, and cleared her throat. She wondered if there was still any wine floating around inside. "I should, um. My dad. I should check on him."</p><p>"Yeah," Aster said. She was half in shadow, and Ellie couldn't read her expression. "Listen, would you tell Paul goodbye and congratulations for me? I was hoping to catch him but he's been kind of front and center. And I didn't want to, you know." She shrugs, and Ellie fills in the blanks: <em>talk to my parents, cause a scene, ruin Paul's wedding</em>. "Katie too," she added.</p><p>"I will," Ellie said. "Maybe I'll, um. If you're ever up at the Lombard Fred Meyer, maybe I'll see you there."</p><p>"Yeah," Aster said, but she didn't move. Ellie didn't either. Inside, they started doing the Electric Slide. "Here, give me your phone," Aster said abruptly.</p><p>Ellie fumbled for her pocket, feeling almost dizzy with relief. She thumbed open her contacts and handed it to Aster. Aster typed for a second, then shot Ellie another unreadable glance and handed it back. "Thank you for the dance," she said, her voice achingly low and intimate.</p><p>"I. Yes. Thank you. I mean, you're welcome. You too."</p><p>"Smooth," Aster said, but she was laughing, and Ellie felt herself smile so big she was sure Aster could see it clearly in the moonlight.</p><p>Inside, Ellie's phone buzzed in her pocket.</p><p><em>That's so kind of you to offer</em>, Aster texted. <em>I'd love to.</em></p><p>What...? Ellie opened the text chain and saw what Aster had, presumably, texted herself earlier. <em>It was so nice seeing you tonight, Aster, I'd love to reconnect. Let me take you out for coffee next Saturday morning. My treat, to apologize for how awkward I was tonight.</em></p><p><em>Wow, forward of you</em>, Ellie typed, biting her lip to keep from grinning stupidly.</p><p><em>I don't know what you're talking about</em>, Aster replied immediately, but then followed it up with <em>You texted me pretending to be someone else before, it's only fair that I now text myself pretending to be you.</em></p><p>
  <em>I don't think it works like that. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Are you objecting?</em>
</p><p><em>No!</em> Ellie typed, thumbs stabbing the keyboard. <em>No, I'm not objecting.</em></p><p><em>Good</em>, Aster sent. <em>Text me a place. I'll be there.</em></p>
<hr/><p>"I thought you said coffee," was the first thing Aster said. She was wearing a dark green wool coat, her hands stuffed in the pockets, her hair escaping the braid under her knitted cap the same way it always used to.</p><p>"I definitely didn't say coffee," Ellie said. "How passé. How tedious. I've got more game than that." Aster's lips turned up, just a bit, and Ellie suddenly wanted kiss her right there on the sidewalk, in the drizzle, people shoving by them in a hurry to get from somewhere to somewhere else. But she did, in fact, have more game than that, and so instead she opened the door to the chocolate shop and gestured Aster in.</p><p>Or maybe not that much game after all, considering the place was, of course, packed. So much for Ellie's vision of a cozy conversation. On the other hand—Ellie leaned in to speak directly in Aster's ear, and noticed, delighted, Aster's quick intake of breath and almost unnoticeable sway closer to Ellie. "Have you been here before?" </p><p>"Not often," Aster said, leaning close enough to be heard. "Enough to know I'm getting the dark mocha."</p><p>"Good, I don't have to end the date right now," Ellie said. </p><p>"Date?" Aster said, and Ellie had a brief but entirely deadly heart attack, until Aster looked at her. Aster's eyes were sparkling, her lips parting in a growing smile, and Ellie was definitely dying of a heart attack, but in a good way.</p><p>"Listen, why don't you withhold judgment," Ellie said loftily. "If you decide this turns out to be a date, you can let me know."</p><p>Ellie ordered, and paid, and scanned the crowd hoping that a table had miraculously opened up. If anything, though, even more people had crowded in.</p><p>"Hey." Aster nudged her, handing over Ellie's mocha. "Want to take a walk?"</p><p>"Yes," Ellie said with relief. "I mean. It's kind of drizzling?"</p><p>"Are you gonna melt?" Aster's head tilted challengingly.</p><p><em>Maybe</em>, Ellie thought, dizzy with it. She hid her smile behind a sip of her drink and let Aster lead the way.</p>
<hr/><p>They meandered down to the riverfront. The air was typically damp Portland, threatening rain but never passing the tipping point into droplets. Ellie wasn't sure where they were walking, vaguely aware of turning left or right depending on which lights turned green. Everything but Aster slipped out of her mind as soon as it entered, driven out by the way her eyelashes flicked up as she glanced at Ellie, the low musicality of her voice, the jostle of her elbow against Ellie's.</p><p>They ended up at the river, pausing at the railing to look out at the bridges. </p><p>"I did a painting of that one," Aster said, nodding at the Tillikum Bridge just downstream. "As if it was made out of vines, kind of an industrialism vs nature feel. It was a poster for a 5k run."</p><p>"Nice," Ellie said, leaning against the railing next to her. "So you came here after art school?" </p><p>"No," Aster said, her head dropping to look at her cup with a wry smile. "No, I didn't go to art school."</p><p>"Oh," Ellie said, blinking. She'd assumed—</p><p>"That was why I married Trig, actually." Aster looked up and over the river, away from Ellie. "When I got the rejection letter, I figured that was the sign I'd been asking for. And Trig still assumed—and my parents—" She stopped and shrugged. "It seemed to make everyone happy."</p><p>"Yeah," Ellie said softly, her heart aching for a much younger, unsure girl, with no one to ask what made her happy.</p><p>"And then," Aster continued, "about three months after we got married, I missed my period."</p><p>Ellie winced. Aster didn't seem to—or maybe she just hadn't told Ellie—but—</p><p>"I wasn't pregnant," Aster said, and Ellie tried not breathe a sigh of relief. "But the way I felt then, I knew that I couldn't—" She shrugged. "I moved out the next week."</p><p>"That sounds... hard," Ellie said inadequately.</p><p>"It was," Aster said. Ellie heard all the things she didn't say—the fights she must have had with her parents, the nights she must have lain awake wondering if she was doing the right thing. "That's when I moved to Portland, actually," Aster said, finally looking at Ellie again. "I knew if I stayed in Squahamish, I wouldn't have gone through with it. Bold strokes, right?" She smiled, a small, self-deprecating twist. </p><p>"Hey," Ellie said, and leaned over to press her shoulder into Aster's. She didn't know what else to say, but Aster's hand came up to cover hers on the metal railing.</p><p>"Anyway," Aster said, clearing her throat. "I did a lot of waitressing. I did get my BA eventually. Spanish, actually, and a teaching certificate. That's my main thing now; I do art projects at a couple schools around town. And other art, when I can. Some posters, like I mentioned. Brochures, that kind of thing."</p><p>"That's great," Ellie said. Something hot and choking was in her throat, wild and jealous.</p><p>"What about you?" Aster said, nudging her shoulder further into Ellie's. "You're writing, right?"</p><p>"No, I'm—" Ellie had to stop and clear her throat. "I work at an insurance company, actually. About ten blocks that way." She jerked her head back the way they'd come, toward the center of downtown. "I'm a process analyst. My dad wants me to explain to him what that is every time I go home." She laughed, or tried to.</p><p>"Hey," Aster said, but Ellie couldn't look at her.</p><p>"So, I think you're brave," Ellie said in a rush. "I think you're really brave, for—for making yourself do the hard thing. The bold strokes. For not settling. I think you're really—" She stuttered to a stop, and forced herself to take a breath. "I think you're really amazing."</p><p>"Hey," Aster said again, and this time Ellie looked up, and then they were kissing.</p><p>After what seemed like a long while, Aster pulled back, and Ellie could breathe. The world wavered around her, watery and unimportant. Aster's eyes were dark and intent, her lips red, like someone had been biting them. Like Ellie had been biting them.</p><p>"You too," Aster whispered, and right then, Ellie believed it.</p>
<hr/><p>They took things slow, after that. Ellie didn't know whether she was holding down the brakes or Aster, or maybe both, but either way Ellie didn't feel any need to rush. They went on another date, and then another, and Aster came over to Ellie's place to borrow a book and then stayed for an hour talking about Bernadine Evaristo, and then another hour making out on Ellie's futon couch. Ellie went to movie night at Aster's place and met Aster's roommates, Jessica and Kestrel, and Jessica's boyfriend Dan, and Kestrel's nonbinary datefriend Yarrow, and when Aster snuggled down on the couch so that Ellie's arm could fit over her shoulders, Ellie felt like she might float away with happiness.</p><p>Eventually they had sex, and it was amazing. <em>Aster</em> was amazing, soft and warm, the curve of her breast fitting Ellie's hand like a puzzle piece. Ellie teased her until she begged, then teased her more until she demanded, and when Aster yanked at her hair and swore loudly as she came, Ellie felt like she could move mountains.</p><p>"Your fingers are strong," Aster murmured.</p><p>"Yours too," Ellie gasped, any pretense of nonchalance long gone.</p><p>"It's all the painting," Aster suggested, and bit Ellie's earlobe. "I have to be good with my hands."</p><p>Ellie strongly agreed.</p><p>Aster was good with her mouth, too, and with more artificial extensions of her body. She was enthusiastic when Ellie introduced her bullet vibe into the proceedings, and when Ellie asked if she had any toys she liked, she brought out a sparkly purple dildo and slightly less sparkly purple harness, which looked <em>incredible</em> wrapped around her thighs. </p><p>She fucked Ellie slowly, thoughtfully, adjusting Ellie's leg, leaning forward, moving her hips in tiny circles until Ellie came and then with long steady strokes until she came again, and then Ellie started laughing and couldn't stop.</p><p>"What?" Aster asked, her lips twitching as she watched Ellie's face.</p><p>"N—nothing," Ellie tried, but Aster arched an eyebrow and pushed in again. "Fuck! Fuck you're good at—" She couldn't catch her breath through the giggles and, embarrassingly, started hiccupping. "Just a conversation I had with—Paul, once."</p><p>Aster's smile grew. "If you're thinking about Paul, I'm not doing good enough," Aster observed, only slightly out of breath. Her hand skimmed down Ellie's belly, her touch delicate on Ellie's labia and clit in a shockingly good contrast to the pressure of the toy inside her.</p><p>"I'm not," Ellie assured her fervently. "Do that again—just like that, fuck, again—"</p><p>Aster grinned down at her and did something incredibly clever with her brilliant, bold artist fingers, and Ellie laughed and hiccupped and came again.</p><p>Much later, though, Ellie picked up her phone.</p><p><em>So, I don't think I told you</em>, she typed slowly. <em>I talked with Aster at your wedding.</em></p><p><em>no you told me that</em>, Paul texted back immediately. </p><p><em>No I mean</em>, Ellie typed, and took a deep breath. <em>We're kind of together now.</em></p><p><em>omg!!!</em> Paul texted, because the older he got the more of a thirteen year old girl he became. <em>wait youv been together since then ELLIE THAT WAS MONTHS AGO</em></p><p>Ellie winced. <em>Sorry?</em> she tried. <em>Also speaking of things someone didn't tell someone else, why didn't you tell me she divorced Trig?</em></p><p>
  <em>That was years ago also I did tell you, i remember because then you said a body could be a cube but not a globe?????</em>
</p><p><em>Anne Conway</em>, Ellie typed with a grimace. <em>That was during finals week, I shouldn't be expected to remember anything from finals week.</em></p><p>
  <em>Okay but it's serious? you and Aster??</em>
</p><p>Ellie looked at Aster, sleeping the sleep of the smug and fucked out, dark hair spread over Ellie's pillow and one hand out of the covers as if she'd fallen asleep in the middle of reaching out. <em>I guess</em>, she typed.</p><p>🤿🪂🥞, Paul replied.</p>
<hr/><p>Aster had always been good at making other people happy, knowing what they wanted to hear, being what they needed. It was second nature to her, automatic, instinctive. It made her hell to have a real relationship with.</p><p>"Just pick something!" Ellie yelled, once, phone in hand and the pizza place's number half-dialed.</p><p>"I <em>said</em>," Aster hissed, "whatever you <em>want</em>."</p><p>"You don't like bell peppers!" Ellie insisted, waving her phone in the air. "You don't like pepperoni!"</p><p>"So I'll pick them off!" Aster said, and Ellie wasn't proud of the satisfaction she felt at Aster finally raising her voice.</p><p>"Oh my god." Ellie poked her phone viciously and raised it to her ear. "I'm ordering mushrooms and olives."</p><p>"Fine!" </p><p>"Fine!" Ellie yelled. "Oh, uh, hi, not you, sorry, I wanted a, uh, a large pizza."</p><p>Aster didn't pick off the mushrooms and olives, and after they ate Ellie swung her leg over Aster's and licked the taste out of her mouth. </p><p>Aster didn't tell Ellie what movie she wanted to watch, or what music she liked, or that she preferred sushi over Thai, and she probably wouldn't have told Ellie when she landed a showing at a coffeeshop-slash-gallery except that it completely took over her life. She painted constantly, sketched when she wasn't painting, trailed off in the middle of sentences when she saw a color or angle that made her think of something to paint. She stopped sleeping at Ellie's apartment, because the morning light in her kitchen was perfect for painting and she needed to wake up at dawn every day to catch it. Ellie brought her sushi, and kissed her goodnight, and watched her paint and paint and paint.</p><p>On one of the rare nights Aster spent at Ellie's apartment, Aster bolted out of bed. When Ellie followed her, blearily, she found her in the kitchen, hunched over her sketchbook, her pen recreating the glass of water on the counter in front of her, a tiny mermaid dangling from the outside of the glass by one hand.</p><p>After Ellie coaxed her to bed, Aster whispered, "I don't understand how you can just... not do it. Decide not to write. And then not write." </p><p>Ellie pretended to be asleep.</p><p>She showed up to the official opening night a month later ready to be impressed by Aster's art, if not by the cheap wine. Aster was a good artist ten years ago, and she had clearly grown more skilled. Ellie ended up wandering around, leaving Aster to chat up the various friends and potential patrons. She stopped at the picture of the mermaid in the water glass, the one Aster had sketched at her apartment. The detail was incredible—Aster had captured the tension in the mermaid's hand and arm where she clung to the glass, and the expression on her face was a visceral mix of fear and longing that Ellie felt her own face mirror. </p><p>"Hey," Aster said behind her, and Ellie tried not to jump. "You like that one?"</p><p>"Yes," Ellie blurted, a bit raw. "It's really... it looks like... She just wants it so much, you know? She's stuck in that glass, and she knows she has to get out, but it—it might hurt, and she won't be able to get back in, and she doesn't even know if she's capable of writing the book she wants to write—" Ellie cut herself off, wincing. That was a little too much truth-telling.</p><p>Aster didn't say anything, not right away, but she wrapped her arms around Ellie's waist, hooked her chin over Ellie's shoulder.</p><p>"I know I'm not sure about much," Aster said eventually, and it wasn't an apology. "But I'm sure about art. And I'm sure about you."</p>
<hr/><p>For their six month anniversary, Aster took Ellie on a date to an outdoor sauna. They held hands walking over the slippery wooden walkways, slid into the hot water and enjoyed the cold, ever-present drizzle on their bare shoulders. Ellie let her glasses fog up, and kissed Aster the way she didn't ten years ago, while the older woman across the hot tub pretended not to smile at them.</p><p>Afterwards, Ellie gave Aster a rental listing, printed out with the important parts underlined neatly. "I know a one bedroom is a little small for both of us," she said, picking at her thumbnail as Aster looked down at the paper, her face unreadable. "But it's got a good living room, and the best part—here," she said, pointing further down the paper. "It's an artist community. They have studios you can use, for your painting. And, um, that I could write in, too, maybe. If I start writing again."</p><p>Aster looked up, and Ellie's breath caught at the expression on her face. "Yeah?" was all she said.</p><p>"Yeah," Ellie managed, and leaned forward enough to kiss her. "I'm sure of you, too."</p>
<hr/><p>"Everything beautiful is ruined eventually," Ellie once spray painted on a concrete wall. She'd learned early that the only constant is change, that no foundation was solid, that the smallest crack could lead to the shattering of the entire world. At seventeen, she knew that you had to make the phone call, kiss the girl, take the risk, and if you didn't, you might not get another chance.</p><p>Ellie is twenty-eight, and she knows that sometimes love is bold strokes and art is being willing to trade a good painting for a great one. And sometimes, art is making a hundred good paintings until you're ready to make your great one, and sometimes love is being willing to have the same argument with someone a thousand days in a row, and texting them <em>I love you</em> because your mouth is too full of pancakes to say it out loud. She's got a five year plan to write a book and quit her stupid job and make art with Aster, and if it doesn't go exactly the way she thinks it will?</p><p>Well, she'll figure it out. She's sure of it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Special shout out to Alice Wu for not only making a terrific movie, but also making the best spotify playlists:</p><p>Ellie: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2VzmeqzwFoYdrn6IwTqYbq<br/>Aster: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ByOMNiZQD7KgWyn3jrZhP<br/>Paul: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3WrTgEHxLBlr0vhBGLORxp</p></blockquote></div></div>
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